Revival in Twilight
by Jonnybot
Summary: Perhaps not your typical Vegeta/Usagi pairing. PG for a few "dark" moments. Serenity, thou must readst! Amiboshi's Triplet... ah, your internet is out right now anyway...
1. Midnight

Dedications and disclaimer:  
  
God, beside faith, hope, and love, You've given me the ability to write and I hope that all my writings reflect You in some way- if only Your creative nature- but hopefully much more.  
  
Serenity, I love you more deeply than words can reach. Without you this fic would not have been possible. Forgive my foolishness, as you always have. On a less serious note, what's a silly la? (  
  
I don't own anything related to the Sailor Moon or Dragonball Z universes. I apologize for the misspelling and misuse of names.  
  
Note: I changed continuity just a little for Vegita's part, and was unclear on Serena's. If this bothers you, feel free to flame me until your fingers fall off, because frankly my dear fan kids, I don't give a rip. There are precisely two people whose criticism I would pay attention to (and you know who you are), and I hope they do have something to say, whether in praise or instruction. Both are welcome and will be received with grace. I do hope everyone enjoys this fic. I have excuses if you don't. Anyway, as they say, "On with the show!"  
  
1 Chapter One: Midnight  
  
It wasn't unlike Serena to be down. It wasn't at all unlike of her to be down over a certain male specimen, who tended to cause her a lot of grief, yet by his very being could cause her infinitely more joy. But this time was unlike the others, because it was the first time that Serena had ever become truly bitter.  
  
She hated everything. Everything stunk. Her family stunk, the world stunk, her friends and their empty words of comfort stunk. But most of all, (and this was the most bitter part of all) she stunk. She hated what she was! She couldn't explain it, but somewhere, bound up in the sinews of her soul, there was flaw. An incurable internal disease that beat her and all she loved down into a pit of despair.  
  
Gone. Darian- gone. It seemed that everything good, everything worth living for was blocked by gray clouds covering her eyes. Would she ever be able to see again? She asked herself, "Will the sun ever rise again?" That kind of thing made tears spill out of her eyes... and she was sick of crying. It stunk too.  
  
Slowly dark thoughts began to creep into her mind. Why did the world stink? If the whole world stunk, why go on living? If the whole world stunk, why bother to endure it, and face it's mocking twists of fate? She imagined, only for a moment, that she was holding a weapon… and she would slay herself with it. Could she do that? Could she take her own life? Yet it seemed like she had already done it once before… once before she had taken her life. But that didn't make sense. She shook her head.  
  
'Too much' she thought. 'It's just too much.'  
  
And with that thought, it seemed that imagination became reality, and she was really holding a weapon… was it a dagger? No, it couldn't be… a gun? No… she couldn't make shape of it… it didn't change, and yet it didn't stay the same either.  
  
'How beautiful' she thought, and then the Princess of the Moon committed suicide.  
  
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Screaming. The planet was screaming. It was like a little miniature hell right in Vegeta's own backyard. Somehow, the location didn't seem convenient.  
  
The main continent split, and cracked down the middle from north to south. Other cracks branched off from it- tributaries to the great river of fire. The ocean's warred, the molten rock churned, the atmosphere dissipated, and life saw its end in that part of the universe. With the scream of a million riddles being ripped from their homes, the atoms that held the planet Namek together flew apart, burning with the cosmic fire that keeps riddles from flying free.  
  
Amidst the chaos, a tiny spot of light fled from the destruction. Fled, but not in fear. No, fear was not potent enough to drive the being that piloted the little ship. It fled under the influence of absolute hatred towards those lives that caused this catastrophe.  
  
The little ship sped away, away from the chaos, the destruction, the terrible catastrophe that would haunt the dreams of many lives for years. Not the least of those lives was Vegita. How hot had his rage been! Now, everything seemed cold. Space, the ship, his mind and heart- all desolate and cold. Empty. That was the word for it. Absolutely void. Where once a great hatred and rivalry had fueled the furnace of his soul, he now found a pile of ashes… evidence of a fire now gone.  
  
Why? Why did it all have to come crumbling down like that? Why would there be creatures like Frieza in the universe who would be so evil… why would the very object of his… hatred? No, not hatred. He couldn't ever hate Goku. But thinking that he had… telling himself "I hate Goku," that had been his drive. Now it was gone. And worst of all, why did he see so much of his own self when he closed his eyes and imagined Frieza. That was the greatest torture- thinking that he was in some small way akin or connected to that vile agent of evil.  
  
Where? That question suddenly occupied his mind. Where would he go now? Certainly not back to Earth. Not yet. He couldn't go back immediately… he needed time. To do what, he didn't know. In some way, he knew it was entirely foolish and irrational, yet the fact was, he didn't care. He could fly his little ship straight into a sun and not care until the heat actually began to burn him. He just didn't care anymore. There was nothing left to care about, nothing left to hate… or nothing worth hating.  
  
In his muddled thoughts, he subconsciously steered towards a planet, or perhaps a large moon or asteroid. He didn't look at it carefully. It was simply near, and he wanted to stop and find some way to cast off his exhaustion, though he knew he would never sleep. Had he looked, he would have seen a desolate wasteland. Full of craters and dull, reddish-gray stone that stretched flat for the entire surface, excepting the craters.  
  
He touched down, and glanced at the atmospheric lights. Everything green, he got out, and began to walk. Trudge was a better word. He moved reluctantly a hundred paces, and then he broke into a run. Under different circumstances, it might have been funny to see. He had no form; it was as if his body was at war with itself. His arms flailed violently, beating his body, while his legs flung themselves in more or less forward directions. His head back, his eyes closed, he moved this way until he came to the unexpected edge of the crater. With a cry that screamed pure, blind, foolish hatred at the universe, he fell in, and scraped his way down to the bottom.  
  
Bleeding a bit, Vegita let go of something he had held onto for a long time- a tear. It fell into the dull black dust, the remains of some asteroid. He sobbed silently into the unsympathetic terrain.  
  
Curses that you couldn't imagine erupted from Vegita's mouth. He was vomiting them up, pure filth and hatred that he wanted so badly to have again, and hated in its current state. He wished that there were some way to escape- somewhere better to go… and his wish came true. Before him appeared an old rusty shack. No smoke, no lights, no special effects, it just appeared, so suddenly that Vegita thought he had missed it. The shack glowed silver, with some inner light. Vegita reached out a hand- an exercise in futility- the shack was about 7 feet away. He crawled, then staggered, and finally walked up to the shack. He examined it, and found a brightly colored keypad. He pushed a button. Then another. He pushed them all, then mashed the keypad with his hand. No response.  
  
In a resurfacing bit of his previous rage, Vegita summoned up an energy sphere and blew a hole in the wall. He stepped in through it. Inside he discovered that he was in a room that couldn't possibly have fit in the shack, and was standing on some glowing blue Frisbees. That's what he thought of them as: Frisbees. Circles arranged in a larger circle, above and below him.  
  
He looked around, and found another control panel, similar to the one he'd dealt with outside. He pushed a button. A door slid shut. Vegita's attention snapped to the place. He laughed a bit at that- that the door had been open, merely on another side. To think he had expended his energy to get inside. To get inside? Why did he want to be inside? It seemed foolish now. He pushed the same button as before, planning to leave through the door. Instead, the room began to hum. Not an electronic hum, or mechanical hum- a musical hum. A vocal hum. It sounded like a girl's voice, singing a beautiful, simple tune. It repeated itself, gradually getting a faster tempo. Vegita was mesmerized. It seemed like all he could think about was the tune… it overpowered him. It overpowered his mind, his body, the very core of his being was overwhelmed, and he forgot that he was an empty vagabond of a destroyed planet, or part of the remnant of Super Saiyans, or even Vegita. He just wanted to hear this tune to its completion.  
  
In his rapture, he didn't notice that the Frisbees had begun to glow more intensely, and appeared to spin in their radiance.  
  
The tune gained speed.  
  
Vegita's mind was reeling, caught up in a music no one could have ever imagined or understood.  
  
The tune was rapid, but still fluid, somehow. Like the notes were made out of woven water.  
  
The Frisbees shot up, making columns of light, surrounding Vegita, going through him.  
  
The tune reached a terminal velocity, and continued at an impossibly fast yet somehow legato pace. Time didn't exist anymore for Vegita- only the tune. Then the entire room flashed silvery blue, and Vegita was taken away… far away. 


	2. Meetings

Meetings  
  
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Unreality swirled before Serena's eyes; black, cold, dark, unreality. It was a relief from the pain- simple, blissful relief. She sensed that she was floating, her body suspended in an underground cavern. Then slowly, so slowly that she nearly didn't notice, her toes touched cold rock, like the inside of a cave. Gently, her whole body touched the ground, until she was lying on the cool, black stone, gently breathing, trying to move her suddenly fatigued limbs and get her bearings, when some of the darkness lifted. Not all of it. She was still surrounded by cold, black space, but she could see that she wasn't in a cave at all, but under a night sky in some vast field of smooth onyx.  
  
"Don't try to get up," … a deep, stern, masculine voice. Very commanding, almost frightening just to hear. She turned her head a bit.  
  
"I said don't try to get up. I suggest you don't even try to move. You've got to take it easy while you're here. There's a lot we have to do for you."  
  
Some amount of defiance arose in Serena, and she weakly turned her head to see her visitor. She finally managed to lift up her head enough to turn her head to the other side. The man standing over her was tall, or at least appeared that way from the ground. She could see a blue sash wrapped around the white robe and sandals poking out from under the hem. He had very nice looking feet… a curious thing to notice, considering the circumstances.  
  
"What happened?" she asked, breathing tiredly between each word. She had exerted herself a lot… just to turn her head.  
  
"Change of plans," came the reply, then he stepped out of her field of vision.  
  
She heard him walk softly away, then there was a soft rustling sound and silence… but something was different. She rolled her eyes around: nothing to be seen but stars and stone. She tried to move, but found it getting harder all the time. She mentally checked over her body, and discovered that she was now wearing a necklace that she hadn't been. It was a small metal chain, she thought from what she could feel on her neck, with a palm- sized pendant inside of her shirt. Though the chain was cold metal, the pendant was warm, and hummed next to her chest. She listened carefully, and barely, just barely, she could discern a tune- repetitive and enchanting. She closed her eyes and focused on it. It brought back the memories of her pain, her loss, her suicide… all of which brought tears to her eyes and hard questions to her mind.  
  
Again, unreality took her up. It was a relief from the pain, but an instant later it became a torment. She felt herself being ripped at, burned, screamed at with voices that spoke in a thousand languages of evil, hate, sorrow, happiness, and awesome, overwhelming power that fell to ruin. However, it only lasted a few moments. A third time reality faded, and this time gray mist floated before her. It stayed… for a long time, until shapes began to form. They came from somewhere beyond the mist, but she didn't know where. She knew very little until she found that she was in the midst of a city. Not just any city- a silver city… a beautiful, silver city. There was no question about it. She was on the moon in it's hey- day: The Silver Age. People milled about, some smiling, some frowning, but all happy for the most part, because what could worry them in this time of peace and prosperity? It would, of course, last forever.  
  
Serena jolted to reality. She looked around, looked for the mouths that voiced the range of emotions and ideas, but in looking around she came to the conclusion that the voices had not come from this little town square. It hadn't seemed like the voices were from outside anyway… more like they were inside her head… even more like they were going through her head.  
  
She shook herself, "Stop that Serena, you'll drive yourself crazy."  
  
Forgetting her moment of schizophrenia, Serena began to ponder where she was; the Moon obviously, but how? How had she gone back in time?  
  
"Maybe I'm in Alesia," she thought. "Maybe that's what heaven is like… just the parts of your life that were wonderful."  
  
That of course, was perfect rubbish. She knew much better than that, but it was the only explanation as yet that she could come up with.  
  
It was at that moment, when she pondered the way that afterlife worked, when she saw him. Standing in the midst of the crowd, staring straight at her. He looked angry, but distantly… like he had been angry over something all his life and then the issue had been resolved. Ironically, this wasn't too far from the truth.  
  
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Vegita saw her fade into view, like some ghost out of a horror flick. She stood there, visibly recovering from some horrible pain. She shook herself and yelled something… what it was, he couldn't hear. She looked around, and her eyes met Vegita's… but they didn't really meet… it was more like they found each other amidst the crowd. Two perfect strangers, looking for each other.  
  
"Ridiculous," he muttered.  
  
"Eh? Excuse me, what now?" said a passerby. Vegita, though, didn't even notice, because when he looked at this girl, he saw something, or sensed something that was akin to that haunting melody- something enchanting… something beautifully mesmerizing.  
  
"You've been deprived of feminine company for too long, Vegita." That thought probably had some truth to it, but that didn't erase the fact, or notion, that this girl, this woman holding a staring contest with him held that impossible quality that the song had- she looked… felt like two opposites, meeting their union. She was strong and weak. She was comforting and frightening. She was slow, fast, east, west, out of his reach, and right in front of him.  
  
This time Vegita dropped his eyes and shook his head and told himself that he was thinking very stupid, backwards thoughts. When he raised his gaze back, she was gone.  
  
No, not gone, just hidden. The pedestrian traffic had shifted and blocked her out of his view, but she was coming, walking towards him. There couldn't be any mistaking it. She looked at him with a… hope? in her eyes. It wasn't so much hope as worried expectation, hoping against the odds. Vegita glanced about him again to see if she could be bearing towards anyone else, but that was clearly not possible- the foot traffic was now flowing around them, like two people at a ball, getting ready to dance in the spotlight.  
  
"Hello," he said, and she stopped, a few feet away. No people passed between them.  
  
"Hi," she replied.  
  
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This was simply too much for Serena. She had just died, took two trips into dreamland, and was now standing amidst a city that was long ago destroyed, talking to an angry man that the crowd seemed to be afraid to approach. There was no way in… wherever this was that she was going to sit here and pretend things were perfectly normal. She hugged herself in her nervousness.  
  
"What's going on?" she asked, not hiding the urgency and sense of imploring in her voice.  
  
"I…" he began, but stopped, and his gaze focused somewhere else, somewhere beyond the Silver Millennium.  
  
"I'm Vegita, last of the Saiyans," such a lie. "Who are you?"  
  
"Serena, a fourteen year old girl," such an understatement.  
  
They both stood, not sure where to go from there. They knew, somehow, unexplainably, that they were there for the sake of each other. They had to meet, but after that, neither had the foggiest idea what to do.  
  
Then again, Vegita did have one specific idea of what he might do… but kissing a girl he didn't know in public… it wasn't his style. And even though Serena was striking, he wasn't about to break down barriers he had set up just to let her in. No, if she wanted in, she'd have to go through the maze.  
  
Serena, however, though she had no ideas, was very tired again. Not quite as tired as when she had been lying, seemingly dead with whoever it was, but still too tired to support her own weight.  
  
She fell into his chest and went to sleep, literally in his arms. 


	3. It's Always Darkest Before

It's Always Darkest Before…  
  
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The girl named Serena slept. Vegita had nothing to do. He felt a certain amount of responsibility for her. He had checked into a small inn, feeling a bit conspicuous carrying an unconscious girl. He had received a few dirty looks, but barely noticed. He was truly dazed.  
  
He reviewed the facts in his mind: he had barely escaped the destruction of Namek. He had been transported to this place from some barren wasteland. Goku was still more powerful than him.  
  
The thought burned. It came out of the recesses of his mind and tormented him, made his mind an inferno. He could never get away from it except by forgetting for a moment. It always came back to him when his mind was quiet, filling him with rage. Not rage against Goku, but against himself. He hated his powerlessness. He hated himself for it. Of all the things in the universe, he believed most of all in power, pure power that coursed through the veins and allowed one to control, dominate, and exercise justice. Yet that standard was the very thing that Goku could always beat him on, always be better at. He could never excel, never be great, and he would never be able to be proud of what he accomplished because Goku would always be there, standing above him, better, more powerful, more glorious and bright. Vegita was trapped in the hell of his own inadequacy.  
  
He went for a walk. The air had become colder in the night. The streets were still milling with whatever folk lived in this place. Vegita's mind burned too much to puzzle about where he was. He only walked, each step hating everything more because he could not have the one thing he wanted- superiority. His rage built and became a glow, something that he could light his way by.  
  
"Ah," he thought. "There it is. I thought my rage had burnt out."  
  
Rage was comfortable to Vegita. Warm, but calculating. It drove him, pushed him, allowed him to dream that he could be better, because those things that were above him could be cast down. He had lost it for a while. There on Namek, as he lay on the ground, beaten, he had relinquished his rage and spoken truly to Goku. Then he had closed his eyes… he didn't remember anything after that. All he could remember was a small ship landing, picking him up, and taking him from the planet. It had been surreal. Sounds of the battle were quieted, and the whole world turned grayscale, except for that ship. He had gotten up off the ground, leaving his rage and entering the capsule, to the black cold of space.  
  
The very thought made him grow cold again. He stopped walking, and collapsed to his knees.  
  
"No!" He pleaded in his heart, "Don't leave me alone again. I need you to be my adversary Goku, to be my drive for excellence. Without you to hate, I will never be whole."  
  
But the answer was nothing but cold, empty silence. He looked around. The world was ashes before his eyes. The buildings, the people, the air itself was lifeless, empty, and he was at the center of it, digging for some gem that he could not find.  
  
He got up, and tried to forget his vision. He would go back to the inn. The girl might have woken up.  
  
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Serena dreamed. She was walking, holding hands with Darian. It was so sweet, it filled her with a glow. She was special! He loved her! He smiled and told her so, then he kissed her… but something went wrong. Just as their lips parted, the color drained from his, and his whole body became mixed shades of black and white. She pulled him too herself, but he only began to fade even more. She screamed, begged for him to stay.  
  
"Let me go," he said, "if you wish to save me."  
  
She heard it as a whisper, but it assaulted her ears like an armed robber, stealing joy, love, all goodness from her.  
  
Weeping, she let go, and backed away from him, never taking her eyes off him as he began to take shape, to become colorful again. He walked away too, turning his back on her. He became smaller, moving to the edge of the horizon, then dropped off as he walked to the other side of the world. It happened in a second and it took an eternity. Then the whole world turned to ash.  
  
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	4. What Goes Up

What Goes Up  
  
Vegeta walked into the room just as Serena woke up. She looked like she might cry, but no tears would come. She kept her eyes closed, so for a moment Vegita thought she was still asleep, but she moaned softly, and pulled the blanket to her chest, hitting the pillow with weakened fury.  
  
"No… why…" she whispered softly to herself.  
  
In that moment, Vegita felt that he connected with the girl somehow. He knew her pain, who she was. She was a girl who had been severed from something so close to her- like him. She was a stranger in an alien land- like him. She needed to regain her old glory- like him.  
  
She opened her eyes and saw him.  
  
"V-Vegita… I was dreaming…" she didn't find the words to finish, and tears did begin to come to her eyes.  
  
Vegita did not know how to comfort. He faked it.  
  
"About what?" he asked, as he strode to the bed softly and sat down, leaving as small a gap as he would risk and as large a gap as he could bear.  
  
Serena took a deep calming breath, "I was with Darian… th- the boy I love-"  
  
Vegita's heart sunk.  
  
"-he… he was with me. HE LOVED ME BACK!" she yelled, and then flung herself down onto the pillow and sobbed, not getting any words out, and being so ashamed for her lack of self-control.  
  
Vegita reached to put a hand on her shoulder, then stopped. He could not touch her. His touch would mean nothing. It would be the sad attempt to comfort the heart of a girl that he barely knew. Once again, someone else was greater than him, too strong for him to beat, but this time he had no image to hate, no person to strive against, and he was so powerless that he too wanted to cry, but he didn't.  
  
"I'm sorry," he croaked out. That was a foolish phrase. But then, he wasn't exactly acting like a stark raving intellectual genius in any of his actions lately, was he?  
  
Serena sat up, and for a moment the river of tears dried up, because she saw that somehow her pain was hurting him. She was very altruistic, and had a big enough heart to do a lot for the healing of a person.  
  
"Oh, it's not your fault," she consoled.  
  
Vegita looked at her. By any sane person's standards she looked terrible. Her nose was running, her hair wasn't done, tears had stained her cheeks and her eyes were bloodshot. Yet, to Vegita, she seemed like female beauty personified. He had no idea that kind of infatuation was in him, but it was a wonderful thing to feel- giddy and childish maybe, but wonderful.  
  
"I know, I mean sympathetic sorry, not apologetic sorry," he answered.  
  
Serena grinned. 'The most fabulous smile,' thought Vegita, not noticing the little rhyme he had just made that she found so amusing.  
  
"Let me guess, you're a poet and you didn't know it?" she asked, and then burst out laughing.  
  
Vegita had no idea how the previous statement applied to him, but when you've just had a bout with depression and lost miserably, you're a wide target for an infectious laugh. Serena's was a regular epidemic, thought there were only two people around to catch it.  
  
They sat there laughing, then laughing at each other's laughing, then laughing just because it filled them with something good when for so long they had been full of something vile, and for a moment they forgot everything and were happy together.  
  
Finally the laughter died, and Serena, feeling contented, made a cooing sound and wrapped herself in the blanket and lay back down.  
  
"So what are we going to do?" she asked, and her voice was tired and beautiful to Vegita.  
  
"You should rest. I'm going to go talk to the innkeeper and see if I can find out where we are." The words came out sounding so much more purposeful and leader-like than Vegita felt, but he was proud of them once he got them said. His pride was short lived.  
  
"No, I feel better now. I think I'm going to take a shower, and then we can go for a walk, and I'll tell you what I know about his place. How about it, hm? Oh, and don't bother talking to the innkeeper. You'll probably scare him more than you learn anything." She said all this as she walked to the bathroom and shut the door.  
  
Vegita was a bit stunned by the suddenness of her apparent knowledge about everything, so he didn't get upset over the statement that he was scary, but he still felt a little crushed at his brilliant idea being dashed to pieces.  
  
While Serena was in the shower, Vegita sat on the edge of the bed and twiddled his thumbs. It wasn't that he couldn't have found something to do, but he wanted to think of something to say or do that would impress Serena. He had no experience in this area, and no idea what to do. All his imaginings ended up being fantasies of kissing her that gave him no further idea on what to do in reality, but were entertaining enough.  
  
He was severely out of it when she came out of the bathroom. That was fortunate, because she had had a brain lapse of her own and completely forgotten that a male was present. She came out wrapping herself in a towel. She had tossed her outfit out of the bathroom once she had taken it off. Normally she would have had some clothes to change into inside the bathroom, and her old habits took over. She also wouldn't have had to worry about being seen barely in a towel either. She had begun to drop it when she saw Vegita, slumped on the bed, his eyes so glazed over she panicked for a minute thinking he had died.  
  
Her startled movement snapped Vegita out of his trance.  
  
"Oh! Sorry… um…" he coughed, and muttered something that could have been, "I'll go get the Corn Nuts, shall I?" as easily as, "Excuse me," and walked out of the room.  
  
Serena watched him go with her eyes wide open and eyebrows raised, and when he had shut the door, she stared at it for a moment.  
  
Outside, Vegita walked away, the red beginning to ebb from his cheeks, when he stopped and looked back at the door. For that second they were both staring directly at each other, but the didn't know it. The embarrassing strangeness of the situation got to them both, and not being able to help themselves, they started to laugh.  
  
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Three days had passed and Vegita and Serena were comfortable together. Very comfortable. They went to watch plays together, and Vegita discovered a taste that he had not known about himself for such things. Serena explained to him about the Silver Millenium and showed him some of the sites. More and more she left out any mention of Darian, and never explained his connection to Endymion. It was something she didn't like to think about, and the dream kept recurring, though with less frequency and vivid detail. Eventually it became a ghost of a memory of pain, with nothing more than the ability to wake her up at night and make her think of Vegita for comfort.  
  
It was obvious that he felt things for her, and he didn't do much to hide it. They didn't have anything to do but spend time with each other, so in three days, Serena had started to like Vegita. She didn't love him, and she knew deep down that she didn't need him, but she could bring herself to want him and like him. That was good enough for her, but not, she feared, for Vegita.  
  
He did want more than he was getting from her. He wanted her to be his girlfriend, but he sensed that she was only suppressing her feelings for this boy that she had left behind in a past reality. He didn't know that those feelings were cut off by a separation that was broader than this reality gulf, but he couldn't know unless she told him.  
  
'Why do things have to be so complicated?!' she thought.  
  
Finally, she decided to end the complications, whatever way she could.  
  
Her and Vegita were walking home from a nice play about young woman who saw terrible futures that she made come true, and was finally able to be free from them when she met man who was the only premonition she'd had that wasn't evil. The play ended with them kissing for the first time in reality, and everyone had thought it was a wonderful love story and held their respective amours close. The whole theatre seemed to have been filled with couples. Vegita and Serena had held each other, partly out of nothing else to do, partly out of an unspoken desire to be romantic.  
  
As they walked, they held hands and talked about the play.  
  
"That was so romantic," Serena commented.  
  
"A little sappy," Vegita said, though he had been touched too.  
  
Serena just smiled and let her eyes follow the lines on the sidewalk. They came to a deserted corner and she stopped. They didn't say anything. Vegita simply looked at her and she looked back at him. Clumsily, haltingly, making short movements, the came close and embraced, gazing into each others eyes.  
  
"It's been a long time since…" she started, then trailed off, looking away. She was baiting him.  
  
He bit. "Since what?"  
  
"Since I've been kissed," she finished, then looked back at him again. She found a surprised look waiting for her. He hadn't expected anything so forthcoming so soon, but his blood raced and he was moved by an ever-deepening ardor. Slowly he closed his eyes, leaned forward, and met her halfway. At first it was awkward- he had never done this before- but slowly he opened up, and found his place on her lips.  
  
The kissed under a lamppost, then walked back to the inn, his arm on her waist.  
  
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	5. The Best Laid Plans of Mice and Men

The Best Laid Plans of Mice and Men  
  
Before, they had shared a room. Vegita had slept on the floor, which was carpeted very softly, and Serena had argued that they should call out for a bed, but Vegita had pointed out that since they didn't have any money and the trusting nature of everyone in this time of prosperity would run out eventually, he didn't want to bring any extra charges on himself.  
  
Now they knew that it would be improper to stay in the same room, though they would have liked to. So, Vegita asked for the adjoining suite, and the next day they both went job hunting. Vegita ended up at a bakery and Serena got a spot dancing in a small theatre company. They made enough that they didn't have to eat at the public events and stock up on food by stuffing free samples into their pockets. They had both lost weight eating this way. Their new jobs would be able to pay for decent meals and their inn fees.  
  
Vegita came "home," as they now referred to the inn, a bit more tired than usual on the third day of his new job. The day had been rough. The customers could be merciless when they were in a hurry. No less than four birthday cakes of such magnificence as a king would have demanded had been Vegita's pleasure to cook. He had no idea how he did it. All he remembered was that after separating his third or fourth egg white, his mind went blank and his body went through to motions like a robotic slave. He wasn't sure if they had come out okay, but it was hard to care when the three men and one woman had been completely impatient and rude to him.  
  
"Ah well," he thought. "I'll see Serena in a bit, and that's good." With that comforting thought, he laid down on his bed and went to sleep.  
  
  
  
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Serena was having a rough time in the ballet, but a different sort of rough time. It wasn't difficulty of the work- she had grace that made gazelle look like overweight hippopotamus. The trouble was the mixed feelings her company had about her. It seemed that practically all the males were keenly interested in her, while most of the girls were terribly jealous of her, particularly those whose significant others were among her admirers. She would often see a small ring of girls pointing at her and whispering with disdainful looks on their faces.  
  
"Do they have any idea how painfully obvious they look?" she wondered to herself. As if she had just stage whispered to set up a joke, she would turn to see a knot of males giving her just as much eyeing with quite obviously different intentions.  
  
"Ugh…" she groaned to herself. It wouldn't have been so bad if she hadn't felt so alienated. She was either the enemy or the pin-up girl. Neither could get much conversation.  
  
"Hi Charity!"  
  
"Hi Serena," came the empty, quick reply, followed by a walk to the furthest place in the room.  
  
To exacerbate the problem, she got the lead part. This was particularly egregious since she had joined the company late. She was shocked at the way the other girls would berate her to the director, right in front of her!  
  
"I suppose I should be glad," she thought wryly, "At least they're not talking behind my back." But then, they were doing plenty of that too.  
  
The lead male was a nice guy, who usually wasn't part of the ogle club. He was definitely Serena's equal on the floor, and he could act completely enthralled by her one moment (the play was, of course, a romance) then stop when the director called cut and laugh at the scene the next moment. He was very professional, very talented, and very good looking.  
  
Serena would have lied to say she wasn't impressed by him, but that meant a lot less than most of the girls seemed to think. Being impressed was something idle, something passing, and Serena understood that with more maturity than most people do until they're 30. So she didn't give second thoughts to talking about these things with Vegita. He seemed very solemn, and she associated graveness with maturity. In fact, she looked up to him; he seemed so understanding and strong whenever things seemed unfair. He didn't complain, and he seemed to have the "trudge on" mentality that made it so much fun for her to cheer him. When she came home however, he was asleep.  
  
The talk would have to wait.  
  
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Vegita dreamed. He was walking through the mountains of ashes that had once been the inferno of his heart. As he walked, plants began to spring up- a dandelion here, a thistle there. Life was springing up where death lay. The hardy plants bloomed quickly, and soon there were patches of yellow turning to white, and popcorn that grew hot, popped off its stalk and then grew again. It was a wonderful display.  
  
Then, a shadow was cast over the scene, but not a malicious shadow. Out of it stepped a young man, powerfully built and royally dressed. He stood, his arms uplifted, and out from where he stood, new plants grew: carnations, roses, tulips, and all sorts of beautiful flowers. The spread like fire on alcohol across the hills, and they were more beautiful than ever. Then his gaze turned to Vegeta, and it was one of righteous rejection. Vegeta looked at himself, and found that he was wearing rags, and that wherever he stood, the weeds and scrappy plants still grew, though with less intensity, and they were smaller. Then the stranger grew, becoming so tall that he cast a huge shadow over Vegeta, and all that could be seen of him was a black silhouette. The figure pointed a massive finger at Vegeta, and he was stricken with fear to the point that he was paralyzed.  
  
Then, he was released from it, and he stood there, realizing that again, someone was greater, someone would beat him down and conquer his imperfect kingdom and remake it more beautiful than he ever could. The revelation filled him with sorrow, then bitterness, and finally a new kind of rage- not the red glow of fierce competition, but the dark black flame of one who is damned.  
  
Vegeta roared, and energy swirled around him. He too grew to a great height, and there stood facing the figure that no longer seemed so terrible. With sweeping motions, he ushered his energy into a kamayamaya that would have leveled cities. Then he held it… held it for a moment of infinity, and looked at his adversary.  
  
It was Goku. His clothes were different, but he had the same face, and his eyes held that maddeningly superior look, and Vegita hated him for it. The field of flowers erupted in flames. Then, with fury, Vegita launched his fireball into the heart of his adversary. He watched with grim satisfaction as his enemy fell and died on the field of flames. Then Vegita looked, and saw a universe without Goku. He saw Frieza dominate all existence, and put everyone under his dominion. He saw him obtain the Dragonballs and become omnipotent. He saw everything become evil and decay into darkness. Then he saw Frieza, sitting on his throne with mockery, turn to him. He saw the lips move, he heard the words, but he could not accept them, so they pounded into his being until he was eroded into stray fibers of soul and flesh. The words? Why, just a simple 'Thank you.' 


	6. I Opened For My Lover, but He Was gone

"I Opened for my Lover, but my Lover had left"  
  
Vegita woke, but lay absolutely still. He slowly opened his eyes and the room came into focus. The ceiling and the window that were in his field of vision were absolutely normal. There was no sound. He noticed that his breathing was ragged. He took a moment to calm himself, but when he closed his eyes, he saw the stunned face of Goku lying in a grave of flowers, or the face of Frieza, mocking him, condemning him for his victory. He stopped breathing.  
  
In panic, he clutched at his chest, rolled over and fell onto the floor, where he beat the carpet in fear and confusion. Nothing made sense. Everything was a tangled web of insanity that mocked the flies caught in it… the spider saw him struggling…  
  
A knock came at the door. Vegita pulled himself out of his abyss for a moment, but didn't get up off the floor.  
  
"Who is it?" he called, surprised that his voice could sound so normal.  
  
"Its me… Serena," came the reply.  
  
Vegita lay his head down on the carpet and just focused on breathing. He couldn't get up. He couldn't be seen like this. Just as he was about to answer "Just a minute" Serena took the liberty of letting herself in.  
  
She laughed. "What, did you fall out of bed?" The question was harmless enough and meant to be playful, but it embarrassed Vegita and only frustrated him.  
  
"No," he answered simply. Now his pain was beginning to seep through his vocal cords.  
  
"Then what's wrong?" her voice had gone gentle, and she knelt down beside him.  
  
Vegita lay on his stomach, not looking at her. "I'm very tired," he said simply. That was true, but it didn't really explain the current situation very well.  
  
"Hm," Serena cooed, but something held her back from touching him… something about him glowed black. It wasn't totally visible, but it almost was, and it scared Serena.  
  
"Are you going to be okay?" The question felt so stupid as it left her mouth, but she felt that she had to say something.  
  
"Yeah," Vegeta breathed. He was getting his breath back now. It came in smoothly, healingly, comfortingly filling his lungs- the wind blowing the rain away after a storm.  
  
"Okay, good," she replied. She had come to the realization that she could not talk to him right now, and decided it might be best for her to leave. "I'll be in the next room if you need me."  
  
"Okay," Vegita said, with an almost sarcastic tone, as if it would have been the most obvious thing in the world. Serena felt like a mother.  
  
"Bye," she whispered as she closed the door.  
  
"Bye," he answered after it was shut. Then he rolled to face it. Had Serena waited just a second longer, she would have seen what he had been hiding from her. She would have seen his face, contorted with pain, and the tears running down it that he would never let anyone see.  
  
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Serena sat in her room and pouted. She wanted to talk to someone. She wanted Vegita to be able to listen. Instead all he wanted to do was lie on the floor. In her heart, Serena knew there was more than that, but she ignored the thought, and instead focused on her needs and desires.  
  
She thought about her situation, and realized a thought occurred to her that seemed at once crazy and wonderful. She would go meet herself. She was, after all, a monarch, and would recognize herself, no doubt! She could get comfort from herself and advice as well.  
  
Either she couldn't or wouldn't think of the many problems with this idea, so she immediately changed out of her dance suit, grabbed a jacket and went out. It wasn't like her to be this egocentric, but she had been giving so much, and now she was not getting anything from the one person she expected to be most understanding.  
  
It took her a bit to find the palace… things seemed misplaced, out of order. Finally she got a map off a stranger and followed it straight to the palace.  
  
When she got there, she was immediately welcomed and when she asked to see the queen, the guards were perfectly ready to take her there on one condition- she remove any jewelry she had.  
  
She was told to wait in a room for a guide to be brought to her. In the meantime, she was to remove any jewelry and place it in a designated box for safekeeping. She sat, taking off various bracelets and earrings, when she came to her pendant. She stared at it for a while. She didn't know if she should take it off, nor did she know if the rules really applied. She decided to keep it and ask the guide when he arrived. That felt best.  
  
She dropped the rest of her jewelry into the metal box, which snapped shut like a bear trap. She wondered for a moment how she'd get them out again.  
  
Her guide arrived silently, and she didn't realize until he spoke that he was right behind her.  
  
"Hello," he said in a gentle, baritone voice.  
  
"EEK!" She yelped, and whirled around. "Don't DO that!" she exclaimed at the stooped little man. He was wearing a light blue cloak, the hood of which hid his eyes.  
  
"My apologies," he said simply, not flinching in the least at her shrieks or jumpy movements. "Are you ready to go?"  
  
Serena calmed quickly, then put on her 'persuade 'em with cuteness' face. "I think so…" she pulled the medallion out of her shirt by its chain. "Can I keep this?"  
  
"You may keep whatever you want," replied the little man, "but you may not be let into the queen's presence until all dangerous articles have been removed from your person."  
  
"What?" Serena pondered silently. That certainly sounded strange. Was the queen paranoid? She couldn't remember this kind of security measure…  
  
"Will you be coming?" the little man asked as he walked to the door.  
  
Serena came out of her daze. "Yes. I don't think this is very dangerous, do you?" she asked, dropping the pendant back down her shirt. The little man did not answer. He simply walked through gray aluminum corridors. The fluorescent lights were hypnotic somehow, and they dulled her mind.  
  
"So, have you ever been to see the queen before?" asked the little man.  
  
"Hm? No," Serena replied dully. "At least, not in this sense."  
  
"And what do you mean by that?" her guide inquired.  
  
Serena thought for a moment. Could she tell him the truth about her? He would think she was crazy, or plotting something. No, she'd change the subject. Unfortunately, her senses were getting duller. She couldn't pull it off suavely.  
  
"My boyfriend wouldn't talk to me today," she intoned. "I think there's something wrong with him."  
  
"Really?" said the guide, turning so that she caught the shadows of his eye sockets. He didn't seem to mind at all that she hadn't answered his question. He seemed intent though, on keeping her attention. "How did he act?"  
  
"He just lied on the floor and barely talked to me. He usually is ecstatic to see me. This time though… this time he seemed to glow black."  
  
Serena didn't see it, but the guide's head jerked so fast that his hood flew back and his face shown. It didn't look at all like the kind of face that should belong to the stunted, dwarfish figure walking beside her. He had beautiful flyaway blonde hair, and sharp, perceiving eyes. His face was strongly built, and his head seemed to big for his shoulders. He quickly covered it again though, and muttered to himself what was probably a reprimand of some kind.  
  
"Perhaps you should offer him whatever healing you have," said the man, and his voice insinuated that what he had just said was very important. Serena's mind was dulled, but she picked up on his hint, and strove to figure out what he meant. Unfortunately, she couldn't make two ends of the sentence, and her mind began to recess back into its dull march.  
  
"That is, you should offer him whatever is closest to you. Don't you agree?" The voice was urgent.  
  
Serena looked at him and nodded, her mind cleared. For just a moment, she did not notice the lights, and was able to piece together the meaning of the guide's words.  
  
"Good," he said shortly, "now come this way," and he hurried into what seemed to be an elevator with no lights. The doors slid shut and they were in darkness, but there seemed to be a glow about the place, like moonlight.  
  
He turned to her. "Is your mind clear now?"  
  
"M-hm," she replied and nodded. She was beginning to become a little afraid.  
  
"Then take the advice of an old guardian," he paused and looked at her in the barely discernable light. "Once you have found a hand to hold, guide it. Pull it down the best path you can find, and when it wants to go a different way, let it go. Do you understand?"  
  
Serena nodded, though she wasn't sure if she understood any more than intuitively.  
  
"Good. And whatever you do, do not hold a hand against its will and never let it go before its ready. You see?"  
  
Again Serena nodded.  
  
The Old Guardian sighed with relief as the doors opened. "Now go see the queen." 


	7. Finger Trap

Finger Trap  
  
Serena stepped out of the elevator and the door whisked shut behind her. Alone in the corridor, she was somehow able to resist the lights. She still felt her mind being dragged into a dull torpor, but she could pull it out and maintain her focus- the trick was she had to have something to focus on. She thought about Vegita, but not the despondent Vegita she had seen that afternoon. She thought about the caring, gentlemanly figure that had taken her to plays (or let himself be taken), and had kissed her under the street lamp.  
  
She came to the end of the hall. The door was emblazoned with a crest that once again she didn't recognize. It was pretty, but it was not the coat of arms known to the monarchs of moon. She reached out and touched it, and the door opened. She stepped through into a huge chamber.  
  
There was nothing inside except metal walls. The room was harshly bare, but lit by huge flaming lamps rather than the mind-numbing fluorescent lamps. Serena looked around, searching for the door that would take her to the throne room.  
  
As the door shut behind her, she heard a voice overhead. It was an eerie voice, with a faint, watery echo to it. "What have you come looking for, Serena?"  
  
She looked up. There, hovering in the air, was Serenity, spouse of Endemyon, immortal monarch of the Silver Millennium. She floated down, her robes flowing about her as if a wind passed through them for no other purpose than to suit her will. She repeated her question, "What have you come for?"  
  
Serena stood gaping, amazed for a moment before she spoke. "I need to talk," she said haltingly.  
  
"What would you talk about?"  
  
She thought for a moment. All the things that seemed so pressing before now seemed foolish. "My problems," she answered finally.  
  
The queen smiled, amused. "I know all about those."  
  
"How can you?" asked Serena urgently. "Have you been watching me?"  
  
Again, the queen smiled. "I am you Serena. I know your actions, your words, your thoughts. I know them every waking minute of every day. I am you. I know you."  
  
Serena considered these words for a long time. Finally, she asked what was on her mind, "This isn't the real Silver Millenium, is it? You're not Serenity."  
  
The queen stopped smiling, but didn't look upset. "Do not perceive too early what you are to learn in the future, Serena. There will be time for all answers later. For now, know this: You did not come here seeking counsel of a wise old queen. You came here seeking the acceptance of yourself. You wanted to stand before yourself in your wisest, most powerful, and most glorious form, and nod in approval at everything you had to say. Though you sought wisdom and advice, you did not seek it for its own sake, and in doing so you erred. You did not come to your bmost/b glorious form, though more of that I won't tell you. You failed to listen attentively when real wisdom presented itself to you. You also failed to focus on the lesson you should be learning."  
  
This was too much for Serena. Whatever or whoever this apparition was, it was being to judgmental and too enigmatic. She went off. "Why do you keep talking in circles? I came here to find out what to do about my problems, only to find out that they aren't that important. Fine. I can accept that. But now that I see the bigger truth you want me to just hush up and listen to you insult me? I don't think so!"  
  
The queen looked shocked for a moment. Then she cast glances around the room, looking at the lamps, as if asking them for advice. A look of understanding- no, a look of Iacceptance/I came over Serenity's face, and she looked at her younger self.  
  
"I never meant to insult you. I just got distracted from what I was supposed to say. I apologize."  
  
"Accepted," Serena said shortly, waiting for further explanation.  
  
"Yes, you are right. You are not in the Silver Millenium. This is something of a copy… its an in-between place to hold you while you get better. You and Vegita were both in need of healing."  
  
Serena thought aloud, "So this place is some sort of… cosmic hospital?"  
  
Another smile, "Yes, that's a good way of putting it. You and Vegita had both died. However, your universes still need you. You still have stories to complete."  
  
Serena hugged herself and stared at the floor. "So then… we can't stay here. This is going to be over?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"And we'll be apart." It was a statement not a question.  
  
The queen sighed, and the curious echo was taken out of her voice. "It is true that for a time you will be separated. However, you must remember that two friends who are parted will find there way back to each other eventually. It may be in a time beyond both your lives, but you will find each other. Take comfort in that."  
  
Serena continued to stare. Inwardly, she struggled to accept the news that made more sense than anything that had happened in the past few days, but at the same time shattered it all as well.  
  
"No," said Serenity, "not shattered, changed. Things will be different now, but it is all for good. Accept it, and be calm."  
  
That didn't calm Serena's real fear. "What about Vegita?" she asked, her eyes watering. In her heart, she was able to deal with idea of losing Vegita. What she struggled with was the prospect of him losing her.  
  
At this the queen looked very sad, but it was almost like she was sorry for herself and maybe Serena, but not Vegita. "I can offer you no comfort in this. You are my charge, not Vegita. But do not trouble, Serena," she said, and put a hand on the girl's shoulder, "there is no being in all the universe to whom thought isn't given. If he is not cared for, it is because he rejected what care we offered him."  
  
"And who are you?" asked Serena.  
  
The queen seemed slightly afraid to give the answer she had, but finally replied, "More on that later. All things in their time."  
  
Serena was appeased. It was enough for her that she could look forward to life again, and in her heart, so deep that her mind's ear couldn't hear it, she was replaying over and over what the queen had said, "…Two friends who are parted will find there way back to each other eventually."  
  
"Darian," she whispered. Her heart had never really stopped being his.  
  
She closed her eyes, and two tears which had been building up finally fell, sparkling to the floor. As they hit the floor, the walls flashed white, and everything, including Serenity, disappeared. She was back on the street outside the inn, her eyes still closed, and her heart filled with a sadness and a joy beyond her comprehension.  
  
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Vegita had finally fallen asleep again. He could not rid himself of his tormented dreams. He saw his enemies fall by his own hand, and after each one he saw a world without them, a world that was somehow evil and terrible. Goku… Frieza… Darian… Serena…  
  
The last one left him in such shock that he thought he had died within his dream. He knelt amid the ashes and pleaded with sky, "Will I kill again? Why do I create such destruction from my heart? Why are my actions evil and Goku's just?"  
  
No answer came from the sky. Rather, it came from a little robed figure standing on a hill. A small patch of light blue flowers surrounded him.  
  
"You wish to be free of this violence, Vegita? Then listen to the message I bring you."  
  
Vegita looked at the tiny figure on the hilltop. He realized his own gargantuan size, and was embarrassed by it, for it was evidence of his hopeless struggle.  
  
"What would you tell me?" he asked, and his voice was very small.  
  
"What was the best thing you've ever felt Vegita? What is the best thing you've ever known?" he said it as if expecting one answer, but Vegita could not give him that.  
  
"Rage, and Goku," he said.  
  
"What do you mean?" asked the little robed figure.  
  
"My rage was the best feeling I've ever had. It allowed me to excel, to be better. But Goku was always the best. He was the savior of Namic, of the Saiyans, of everything good. I am just a warrior." The words were bitter, and drove his eyes into the ash-covered ground, away from the noble figurine on the hilltop.  
  
"You see your smallness," said the guide. "Why do you persist in your quest for god-hood?"  
  
"God-hood?" puzzled Vegita. "I didn't want that, I wanted to be-"  
  
"The mightiest of the Saiyans," the guide completed his thought. "You wanted to stand above everyone else and order things as you saw fit, is that not right?"  
  
"Yes," thought Vegita. "That is me in a nutshell."  
  
"But you are much too big for a nutshell, eh?" asked the guide, and he chuckled at his own joke. "Vegita, why get so upset over all this? No one can be greater than everyone. The warrior submits to the king who submits to the peasants who submit to the warriors. No one is really on top, they only pretend to themselves to be. That is what a tyrant is. The reason you are so broken is-"  
  
"-Is because I look for power first," Vegita finished. "I see."  
  
No more needed to be said. The guide put his hand on Vegita's shoulder. "Lose your ambition, and you lose your shame," he told him. Vegita realized that the guide had grown to match Vegita's size, and that he wasn't the stooped figure he'd thought he'd seen, but he was a tall and powerfully built man. He could have been a fine warrior.  
  
"Is this over then? Will I return to my life again?" he asked, and again he saw the last battle and his escape from it.  
  
"Yes," said the guide, "but a few things remain. I suggest you be as submissive as you can. I will see you again shortly."  
  
Vegita woke up.  
  
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	8. Comes the Dawn

Comes the Dawn  
  
Serena walked back to the inn, knowing that it would not be home. Knowing that Vegeta waited at the end, expecting her to be warm, loving, and affectionate, when she could no longer be any of those things. Slowly the world faded into background noise, and the conversation began to play itself through her head.  
  
"Vegeta?"  
  
"Serena!" he would run to her, embrace her, try to kiss her… she would turn away. He would be hurt, confused…  
  
She would have to explain.  
  
1.1.1.1 "You see, I met myself… that is, I met myself in the… er… past, and- "  
  
No, it all sounded too ridiculous. She had explained the Silver Millennium, but it still wouldn't make sense to Vegeta, even if he believed that she wasn't going crazy. It was all going to be confused and terrible and end in tears.  
  
"Well, if it's going to be that way, you might as well deal with it, Serena. There isn't any other option. Just try to be as kind and honest with him as you can."  
  
That didn't make things seem any better, but it alleviated the sinking feeling in her stomach and replaced it with a grim resolve. And, as it did, the world opened up again and everything seemed beautiful simply because it was different from her despair. The stars shone and they seemed brand new, like she had never seen stars properly before. The breeze was cool and gentle, like a nice blanket she could wrap herself up in. Everything was new and for a while, she was glad. She danced the whole way to the inn.  
  
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Vegeta couldn't sit and wait. He had to go see her. He simply didn't have the patience to wait for her to bring some terrible news home. He had a hunch as to what the news was about- somehow he knew that they could not stay together, especially if they were going home. He was pretty sure now that they were from different universes, or at least remarkably similar and yet different sides of the same one. At the same time, he didn't want to run out and scare her, or worse, take a different route and miss her on the way.  
  
In any case, the relationship was going to be over. Vegeta had trouble feeling bad about it. It was not that he hadn't enjoyed his time with her, but that he was free now! He would never let go of his competitiveness- that was an integral part of who he was. But he could stop hating the people who were above him. He could stop being a demon. It's hard to feel down when you've been freed from the tyranny of your own desires.  
  
So there he lay, ecstatic and yet calm, teetering on indecision. His hands began to tremble.  
  
"My head is going to explode," he said aloud to the empty room. Hearing the seriousness of his own voice, he burst out laughing. He simply lay on the bed, drinking in air and mirth, when Serena opened the door.  
  
She didn't come in at first, just stood there with it ajar, not showing herself. Vegeta was almost sure it was her.  
  
"Um… hello?" he called. He didn't mean to come off sounding impatient; he was just a bit anxious about what was about to happen.  
  
Serena entered, and she looked so somber that Vegeta thought maybe someone had died. There was silence for a moment.  
  
"Serena…" he began haltingly, "Are you okay?"  
  
She didn't respond. She simply entered and let the door close behind her.  
  
He stood up. "Do you need to talk?" He tried to sound as calm and comforting as he could.  
  
"Vegita I-" she started, but didn't finish. She didn't need to. Their eyes met, and understanding passed between them. Vegita suddenly saw all the turmoil she had felt over him, all the struggling she had had to do alone, when he couldn't be there because of his hate.  
  
"Just another reason not to," he thought to himself. He walked across to Serena and put his arms around her. It was a different kind of hug. It wasn't the two awkward romancers under a street post. It wasn't the boyfriend having one last moment with his girlfriend before the inevitable breakup. It was two friends, meeting after being parted by a long, frightening war.  
  
"I know," he said, answering her broken apologies. "I never meant to be a burden to you. I'm sorry." Vegita had no idea where he was getting the insight to say these things, but he went with it.  
  
Serena began to cry, but her tears did not affect her voice. "I just haven't known what to do. You've been so good to me, Vegita."  
  
Vegita wouldn't accept that. "Anything I've done for you, you more than deserved. You don't owe me anything." He went quiet then, waiting for her to say what needed to be said.  
  
"I've just got to go home. I don't think you can come with me. I'll miss you, and I won't forget you, but…" she couldn't finish the thought without it being hurtful, but they both knew. What they had had together was not what it should have been for either of them. It wasn't wholly bad, but it was not something that they could cling to. It was time to let go. So, they did just that.  
  
The two friends stood, barely a foot apart, heads bowed, letting go in their hearts just as they had let go physically. Once the last cord had been tended to, once they were no longer holding each other by anything more than memories, they were taken away to a crater filled planet or asteroid, with nothing but darkness overhead, and two beings robed in blue, one in a darker shade, one in light tones. In unison, they grabbed the hoods of their robes, and revealed their shadowed faces.  
  
There was silence. The one in lighter blue, both Serena and Vegita recognized. The larger, darker attired one was a stranger.  
  
"Hello," he said in a deep, strong voice. "I see that you two are better." His eyes suggested that he saw deeper than their outward appearance, and into the clockwork of their minds and souls.  
  
"Hi," said the familiar one. "I believe we've all met, yes?" Vegita and Serena shared a brief look.  
  
"No Datchet, they don't know me, though they've each had encounters with me," said Dark Blue. "I am Gondern. I was set in charge of the healing of you two. Datchet is my charge, so I asked him to do the more risky parts of the matter." He paused. "Do you understand?"  
  
Vegita and Serena looked at each other again. Surprisingly they understood most of it, but they did each have some questions.  
  
"Um… there's one thing I don't get," Vegita began. "When did I encounter you?"  
  
Gondern smiled. "Do you remember, Vegita, a wanderer? A vagabond who stumbled upon a melody too big for his mind to hold? Then he was carried off to a small village where he met someone who was like to the melody, yet different?"  
  
Understanding dawned on Vegita's face.  
  
"It was I who sang the melody, but so that you two might be brought together, I borrowed Serena's voice."  
  
Serena leaped in, "So then you meant for us to fall in love?"  
  
Gondern almost frowned, but it was more out of concentration. "We didn't really intend for everything to happen. We needed you to walk together so that you could be part of each other's treatment. I don't think "falling in love" was part of the plan… no… but we worked through it." He shrugged. "It was the best we could do."  
  
Serena spoke again, "So he heard my voice. What was it that brought me to him?"  
  
This time Gondern and Datchet exchanged glances, but this one was dark, and it seemed that they talked well with their eyes. Finally Datchet spoke, "Serena, do you remember the day you walked in on Vegita, and he was on the floor? How he was like a wall? Do you remember that darkness that was about him?"  
  
Serena nodded.  
  
"Can you think of any other time you felt such a darkness?"  
  
Serena only had to ponder for a moment before she remembered the terrible despair that had brought her to this place. Then, even deeper, she recalled a high-pitched wailing, a deep and frightening screaming, and the turmoil of some black destruction that was too evil for words. She shuddered.  
  
Vegita felt bad that she had been forced into something so hateful that it made her shiver, but he didn't know what it was, and he wasn't going to ask since it seemed best to let her forget it. He decided to ask the ultimate question.  
  
"What's going to happen now?"  
  
There was some brief eye talk, then Gondern said, "You are both going home."  
  
Perhaps it was the presence of the solemn healer that prevented them from shouting and leaping for joy. In any case, there wasn't much time for it. They both began to fade.  
  
"Goodbye," Serena said, looking at Vegita with the same killer smile she'd shown him that first day in the hotel.  
  
"Goodbye," he answered, and gave her a nod of respect.  
  
As the wasteland vanished from Serena's eyesight, she heard Datchet say to her, "By the way, I was supposed to tell you: You won't have to wait for a time beyond your world for the one you love." His smiling face appeared briefly, then vanished in a white blur. She found herself back in her bedroom, this time with no despair, and no weapons, just a patient hope for the time when she would be reunited with Darian.  
  
************************************************************************  
  
A few months later, Vegita discussed these events with a friend, who will remain nameless. Who do you think it is?  
  
"Well, that's the funny thing. I think Serena and I weren't really compatible. I'm going to need someone who's more… eh… supportive. Someone who would help me with some crazy scheme, you know? Yeah, I know, it sounds crazy, but that's how I feel."  
  
********************************************  
  
Somewhere in the universe, two guardian angels sat down to watch some recordings of their old assignments.  
  
"It's a little disappointing though, isn't it, Gondern? I mean, they don't really know we're there, or that we care at all."  
  
The elder smiled, "In a lot of ways, Datchet, that makes it all the better."  
  
The End 


End file.
